


Arrangements

by xhookswenchx (ReluctantPrincess)



Series: AUs [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Curse, Arranged Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReluctantPrincess/pseuds/xhookswenchx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a shattered heart, Princess Emma decides to give up on finding true love. Out of duty to her people, she convinces her father to arrange a marriage. </p><p>Prince Killian is being forced into a marriage he does not want, but when he meets his intended, he notices a sadness unlike any other. Convinced it's because of their impending nuptials, he tries to appease her, only to be met with a cold indifference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head while reading one of those crazy historical romances. (Which...ironically, has no arrangements whatsoever...but I liked the idea of writing a story that was set in the Enchanted Forest)

Arranged marriages were an archaic tradition built on the egos of nobility.

Still, that didn't exclude Prince Killian from being subjected to one.

Being the youngest son meant he was not in line for any crown. His brother Liam was a good man, and would make a fine King someday. Almost certainly, his wife, would be an equally fine Queen, and it would be their children to inherit the throne.

Killian, on the other hand, stood to inherit nothing more than a title, and a life of luxury. Not that he was at all complaining. The throne never did appeal to him, but he wouldn't much appreciate losing the perks he was accustomed to.

He had plans for his life after he returned from his studies. Plans that didn't include his father telling him that he was due to marry some crown princess in two month's time.

It wasn't that Killian was against marriage, he'd thought about it plenty of times, he was just against marrying a total stranger, who would likely hate him simply because he was not someone she had chosen. What parent in their right mind promised their daughter to a complete stranger? He knew the answer, royalty. His father was doing the same thing to him, and there was nothing that Killian could do to stop it. Well, he could run away, but that would look bad, and he would lose all those luxuries he'd grown used to in his short life. He'd never make it without the comforts his title brought. No, his best bet was to meet this princess and marry her, like the dutiful son he was.

***

“You don't have to do this.” It wasn't the first time Queen Snow had said the words, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But Princess Emma was determined that this was the best way to go about things. Especially since she'd given up on love.

“I'm doing this,” she said, “if I don't marry, I give up the crown.”

“There is plenty of time before you even have to worry about taking the throne,” her mother pleaded.

Emma laughed at that, “true as it may be, we both know that it is much easier to marry off a young princess, than an old crone.”

“There is still time for you to find love-”

“I had love,” Emma said, “and it wasn't all I ever dreamed it would be.” No, love was pain, and her shattered heart was a testament to that. “I hear this Prince is easy on the eyes, so you don't have to worry about me. I'm sure he'll make a decent husband and a fine king.” She would be ever the dutiful wife to this man she was promised to, but one thing was clear, this was out of necessity, and not love. Their time together may bring fondness, and they may even be happy, but she knew that she would never love her husband. Part of her wondered if he felt the same, knowing that this was all arranged, and he had no choice in the matter.

When she begged her father to just marry her off, he was hesitant, but finally, agreed to her wishes. He returned from his journey with news of a match, and much to the Queen's dismay, the prince would be arriving in a week's time.

Emma wasn't thrilled, even though the match was at her request. The wedding was set for the end of the spring season, in two month's time, leaving her very little time to get to know the man she was promised to. Her nerves were on edge as she waited for the prince to arrive. She hoped he was as easy on the eyes as she had heard. Her father would never set her to marry someone who wasn't a kind man, so she didn't have to worry about that, but her impending nuptials had her overcome with a sense of dread that she'd never felt before.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is honest with Killian, and he makes her a promise. Snow tries to get Emma more excited about the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working on "Why Do You Care?" 
> 
> Promise I haven't abandoned it!

Once. He'd met her one time since he'd arrived, and it was the briefest of meetings.

Princess Emma was quite beautiful, far more beautiful than he imagined she would be. She didn't smile though, not really. There was the polite smile she gave him at their meeting, but it never reached her eyes. Killian wondered what had brought such sadness to those beautiful, jade eyes. Then, he realized, it was probably the same thing that had brought a heaviness to his own heart.

Neither of them wanted this.

The second time he met her was at the ball, and once again, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Red seemed to favor her, he decided as he watched her practically glide down the staircase in her gown. Her long, blonde hair was pulled up and pinned back, save for a few errant curls. As she approached him, and her parents made their announcement, she smiled, but again, it didn't reach her eyes. They didn't have much time to get to know one another, but he was determined to bring her the happiness she deserved.

He couldn't understand why her parents would put her through this. Their own love story was practically a legend, and even a blind man could tell that the story was true. The moment the music started, the King and Queen were out dancing, eyes only on one another.

“Are you going to ask me to dance, or am I marrying a man with two left feet?” Emma finally spoke. He winced at the harshness of her words, and when he looked over at her, he could see that she immediately regretted saying them. “I'm sorry,” she apologized, “I suppose I'm just a little nervous.”

“My apologies, love,” he said softly, “it was rude of me to assume you weren't in a dancing mood.” He offered her his hand, and was surprised that she took it without further complaint. He led her out to the floor, and could feel all eyes on them. Parties were always fun, and dancing was just a small part of that, but being the center of attention was something he wasn't used to. Liam was always the one who had all eyes on him, and he handled it well. Killian, on the other hand, felt even more uneasy.

“You don't wish to marry me,” she said as he took her in his arms.

“And you don't wish to marry me,” he said, “yet, here we are.” They started to move to the music, and his gaze met hers. Her eyes may have been sad, but that didn't make them any less beautiful.

“Here we are,” she mused. “To be honest, I'd rather not marry at all, but the law says I must.”

“Forgive me for being out of line,” he said, “but, why are your parents forcing you into this? Normally, I would understand that royalty keeps to these ridiculous traditions, but your parents have never been traditional.”

“You've heard the tales then.”

“I may live far off, but such stories can have quite the reach.”

“The truth is,” she lowered her eyes, so as not to look at him, “I asked my father for an arrangement. I trust his judgment more than my own.”

That was the last thing he was expecting to hear. “You trust your father to find love for you?”

“Make no mistake, Killian,” she looked back at him, “this is not about love, but about duty. Surely, you didn't think you were going to fall head over heels for a complete stranger?”

“No.” No, he didn't expect to find love, but there was an attraction. On his part at least, he couldn't be too sure about what was going through Emma's mind. “Princess, I don't wish to see you unhappy.”

“I am not unhappy,” she protested.

“Your eyes tell a very different story, love.” He stopped moving, “perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere?”

“The terrace,” she nodded, “there is plenty of room for quiet conversation there.”

He let her show him the way, and the moment they were alone, he turned to her and took both of her hands in his. “I am obligated to marry you,” he said, “and this may not be the most ideal situation for either of us, but I am promising you right now, that I will do my best to make you happy.”

“You are under no obligation to make me happy.” A stray tear fell down her cheek, and she stifled a sob. “I won't lie to you, Killian. I can be a good wife to you, but I cannot love you. So, if that's what you were hoping for, tell me now, because I will let you go so you can find love.”

“I made a promise to marry you,” he said, “and that is exactly what I intend to do.”

“Your father made that promise,” she reminded him.

He shook his head, “my father made the deal. I made the promise. I'm certain there are many ways I could have prevented this, but I chose the path that led to our engagement. I stood there as your parents announced it, and I will stand there with you when we wed. You may not want to love me, Emma, and that is your prerogative, and perhaps love isn't in the cards for us. But know that just as you promise to be a good wife, I promise to be a good husband. We can be happy, despite the fact that we are both doing this out of a sense of duty.”

“As long as we are clear on that,” she confirmed.

This was not going to be an easy two months for either of them, and he could only hope that he could deliver the happiness he promised.

***

“He seems nice,” Snow mused. It had been little less than a week since the ball, and plans for the wedding were well underway.

“He's nice,” Emma nodded, “Father seems to be an excellent judge of character.”

“You still don't have to do this,” Snow said, “your father and I will understand, and I'm sure Killian will too.”

“This wedding is happening,” Emma stated.

“Then the least you can do is get more involved,” her mother insisted, “it's your wedding, after all, you should be able to enjoy it.”

Emma sighed, knowing her mother wouldn't be happy unless she showed some interest in the wedding. But she had never really cared to be involved in the planning of anything, while the Queen was always heavily involved, adding her own personal touches to every celebration. “We have people who do this sort of thing for us,” she said, “all I really need to do is make sure I don't gain too much weight between now and the day I have to squeeze into that god forsaken dress.”

“Which you still haven't chosen,” Snow scolded. “I can't understand your indifference when you're the one who asked for this whole thing to begin with.”

“Just because I asked for an arranged marriage doesn't mean I want to get involved in the whole circus. I will show up, I will smile, and I will get married. That is all that's required of me.”

“How about spending time with your fiancé?” King David came into the room, and Emma immediately stood to greet him. “He's been here a week now, and you've barely said hello to him during meals. People talk, Emma, and ignoring your intended could start some rumors. You told me when you met him that he would do. Have you changed your mind?”

“I haven't.”

“Then perhaps you two should take some time to get to know one another a little better.”

Emma knew her father was right, but it wasn't like she was outright avoiding Killian, most of the time, she had been stuck, listening to her mother's ramblings about the wedding.

They meant well, both of them, and thankfully, neither had mentioned why Emma had requested this in the first place. Killian had promised to be a good husband, to make her happy, and in turn, she was determined to do the same for him. She doubted they would ever have anything close to what her parents shared, but she had given up on that after Baelfire's betrayal.

Emma would never again fall in love, because love was simply too messy to bother with.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow and David don't agree on Emma's arrangement. Emma and Killian talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today. I don't expect this story to be very long at all.

“She isn't happy,” Snow scowled at her husband. It wasn't often that she found herself angry with him, but this was one of those times.

“This could work,” David insisted, “and it was her idea in the first place.”

“You're her father. You could have said no. You _should_ have said no." She couldn't understand why he would go along with such a ridiculous plan to begin with. “Now our daughter is marrying some random stranger-”

“Will you relax?” Despite the fact that his wife was seething, he was smiling. “I didn't just pick the first prince I found. Trust me. I know what I'm doing. It was a little rocky at first, but have you noticed that they're actually warming up to each other?”

“Warming up and falling in love are two completely different things.” She sighed.

“Right,” David nodded, “but Emma wouldn't fall in love anyway. At least, she's trying _very_ hard not to. She insists she no longer believes in love, so if we left her to her own devices, she'd likely never try. I'm simply giving her a push in the right direction.”

“So what makes this prince so special?”

“He's a good man,” David said, “I have no doubt that he will treat our daughter well. But he's no pushover.”

“So?” Her husband would never choose a man who wasn't kind, so she never worried about Emma being treated poorly. But what made him stand out?

“He is just as stubborn as our headstrong daughter,” David grinned, “and as far as I can tell, he's already smitten.”

Snow couldn't help herself, she rolled her eyes. A prince smitten with a woman who had closed off her heart? He may be a good man, but that was still a recipe for disaster. Especially if he was just as stubborn as Emma.

***

Heaven help her, she actually liked her future husband. It wasn't that she expected to hate him, or even dislike him, but Emma certainly never expected to truly enjoy his company.

That didn't mean she had changed her mind about the marriage. No, that was still something on her list of things she had to do, and she doubted that it would ever move onto the list of things she _wanted_ to do.

She had to give her father credit though. If she had to look at the same man for the rest of her life, she was glad it was one who was so much fun to look at. When the rumors said that he was easy on the eyes, they were sorely understating how attractive he was. His black hair contrasted with his eyes, that were so blue, they rivaled the ocean. He seemed to favor the few days worth of scruff on his face, and while she never found that attractive before, she found it quite appealing on him.

Emma could tell by the way he held her as they danced that he was strong. As much as she hated to admit it, it felt good to be in his arms, and she'd almost gotten lost gazing into his eyes.

“So,” Killian broke the silence with one word, but didn't continue. She knew it was because they were supposed to be getting to know one another, but neither knew what to say. He seemed cautious around her, and while she was trying her best to be a good fiancé, she didn't know what to say. The entourage that seemed to follow them everywhere didn't help either. Why were they required to do all this in front of an audience?

“So...” She repeated, wincing at how awkward it sounded. Thinking quickly, she tried a joke. “I'm glad to see that we're both fairly articulate.”

He laughed, and it made her smile. “And here I was, thinking I was getting a silent wife. Thank the gods, that would be boring.”

“Most men like a silent wife,” she informed him, “unfortunately, my parents were blessed with a daughter who doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut.”

“I am not most men,” he stated, “talking to walls doesn't appeal to me.”

“So,” she started again, wondering when they would move past awkward conversations. “I am your fiancé.”

“So I've been told,” he nodded.

“Does that bother you?” She asked, “especially now that you know the truth? That it's my fault you're here?” The more time she spent with him, the worse it felt. He was a good man, and he would have no trouble finding someone to truly love him, yet, he was stuck here, with her, knowing that he would spend the rest of his days in a loveless marriage.

“No,” he stated. “It doesn't bother me. I won't lie and say I was overjoyed to hear I was to marry a woman I'd never met, but it doesn't bother me anymore. I want to be here, Emma.”

Right, because now, he had the promise of a much larger kingdom. Her father had told her all about the tiny seaside kingdom that was at the far reach of their land. Killian was the second born, and therefore, not in line for his own throne, so Emma was certain there was an appeal to marrying someone who could make him a king. “I'm glad...” She said softly.

“I hope you want to be here too,” he said.

“I have to be here,” she reminded him, “my palace, my kingdom. One day, anyway. I guess really, I should be saying 'ours' though.”

“I'm not talking about the kingdom,” he said. “I want to be here with you.”

Something about the way he said it gave her pause. Surely he didn't mean he was starting to think she could love him. “Killian-”

“I know,” he stopped her, “you can't love me. But that doesn't mean I can't love you.”

“You can't love me,” she stammered, “we've only just met a few weeks ago.”

With a sigh, he shrugged, “I suppose you're right.”

Of course she was right, so how come he sounded so defeated?


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian have a moment alone, and he is surprised when she tells him about her first love.

“I was told I might find you here,” Killian said. Emma hadn't been all that difficult to find. Her father had told him about her need to escape now and then. The King hinted of locations she enjoyed, and as Killian roamed the grounds, the sounds of arrows whizzing through the air led him right to her.

“What the hell?” Emma swung around, forgetting all about the tree she'd been assaulting, taking quick aim at her intruder.

“It's only me, love,” Killian took a step back, his hands up in mock surrender. “I hear it's bad form to kill one's fiancé.” He would make a quip about her language _after_ she lowered her bow.

“Care to tell me why you went out of your way to find me?” She lowered her weapon, but watched him, as if she was trying to read him.

“My intentions are not what you're assuming.” He mentally kicked himself for not realizing she'd likely assume the worst of him.

“And how do you know what I assume?”

He laughed, “I merely wanted to see you. Your mother has monopolized much of your time these past few days, and I've missed our conversations.”

Emma smiled, but he could tell she was still wary of his presence. “You mean our incredibly wordy ones?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “Is there any particular reason you've escaped your mother and all those tasked to keep you out of trouble?” He watched her carefully, letting out a quiet sigh of relief when she finally relaxed completely.

Emma put her bow down, then pulled the quiver from her back and set it beside the weapon. “I just needed to let some aggression out. My mother has been showing me floral arrangements all afternoon. Don't get me started on all the other details she's been insisting I get involved in over the past few days. We _do_ have people for this sort of thing.”

Killian offered her his arm, and his heart skipped a beat when she took it. “I wasn't aware wedding planning was so stressful,” he teased, “care to go for a short stroll, provided we don't get caught?”

“Lead the way,” she said.

They walked in silence for a bit, but it wasn't what Killian would describe as uncomfortable. The weight on Emma's shoulders seemed to be incredibly light today, despite her complaints. “Do you always let out your aggression by shooting the life out of some tree? I was under the assumption there was a practice range for that sort of thing.”

“Yes,” she said, “the practice range that is usually crawling with soldiers. Not a good place to get away. Besides, maybe I just hate that particular tree.”

She laughed when she said it, but her tone hinted that maybe she truly did hate that particular tree. “It seems to me, someone who enjoys giving people the slip would like that particular tree.” He did his best to proceed with caution. The princess didn't hate him, and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way. “I noticed its proximity to the wall, and that it looked fairly sturdy-”

“Escaping one's duties for a day can be fun, but leaving the palace unaccompanied, and especially in secret, is unwise.” Her smile faded, and the words were clipped, leading him to now believe there was much more to the story than an offensive tree.

“Apologies,” he said, “I didn't mean to pry.”

Another silence swept over them, and this time, he half expected for her to tell him she was done with their little stroll.

“I used to climb that tree,” she said softly, “and it led me to nothing but trouble.”

“Your parents found out?” He asked.

“Oh no,” she said, “they knew. I am no idiot. Even though escape is easy, I know that they have eyes on me wherever I go.”

_Of course_ , he thought. Unconventional, perhaps, but not stupid. The king and queen's own tale was full of adventure, so why wouldn't they allow their own child to have a taste of that same freedom.

“They even approved of the boy I liked to meet on the other side of the wall.”

_Aha_. He didn't speak, instead, deciding to let her talk, knowing that an interruption might cause her to close up again.

“He wasn't anyone important, it he grand scheme of things. Just a boy I met during one of my escapes. He was nice enough, so I started to look for him every time I left the palace. We had quite a bit of fun. He said he was from one of the smaller villages, and we often made our way there when we spent time together. I enjoyed going in disguise, and having people not know me.” She stopped walking, and he could feel her tense up.

“What happened?” He allowed himself to speak again, “did you get hurt? What happened to the boy?”

“It was all a lie.” Her voice was almost a whisper, “I won't bore you with details.”

“You loved him.” It was a guess, but he was pretty sure he was right.

“It doesn't matter.”

“He hurt you,” he turned to face her, “didn't he? What did he do to you?” He was overcome with the urge to find this man, and break him.

“Isn't it obvious?” She asked, “he took the one thing I was so desperate to find, and he used it against me. Because he wasn't just some boy from a village, he was the son of the Dark One.”

“He has a son?” Killian had never had the displeasure to meet the man whose reputation was as vile as they came, but he'd never heard about a son.

“It was all part of some plot,” she frowned, “though what they were planning, I can't be sure. Something stopped them...that's how I found out.”

“What stopped them?” Killian asked.

“It doesn't matter,” she said.

If she didn't want to talk about it, that was fine. He didn't need all the details to see how badly the betrayal had hurt. “Any particular reason the Dark One is interested in you? Should I be worried?” He'd be damned if that imp thought he could have her.

“I think it has more to do with my family than just me. You've heard the stories, so I can only assume you know a bit about my family history?”

Killian nodded, “I know a bit, and now that I've been here for a few weeks, I can see the tales weren't embellished.”

“Every family has their curses,” she said.

“Aye.” It was true, curses were rampant in the Enchanted Forest, and even though his family seemed to escape them, that didn't mean they were blind to them.

She was young, in love, and then shattered. Killian was starting to understand why she no longer trusted her judgement.

“He's the reason you asked for this,” he said, “and the same reason you refuse to open your heart.”

“Yes.”

“I'm not him.”

She looked down, “I think we should go back now.”

“Alright.” Pushing her would be too much, especially when she had shared so much already. As they turned to head back, Killian made a silent promise to cut down that damn tree.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the fact that she keeps him at arm's length, Emma is becoming extremely frustrated at her fiance's lack of affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geez, so, this class is ridiculously difficult, so I am doing far less writing than I'd hoped. Updates might be a little more spaced out in the coming weeks. :( Sorry!

Emma could have sworn that Killian was going to kiss her that afternoon. The one moment they had alone (save for the eyes she knew her parents always had on her) and all he did was talk to her. Well, she had done more talking, and he listened, but why didn't he kiss her? Surely he wasn't afraid that the spies that stayed at a distance would intervene. They hadn't when Baelfire kissed her.

The more she thought about it, the more it bothered her. It shouldn't bother her, but it did.

Now, she couldn't sleep, because all she could think about was how Killian had been at the palace for weeks, yet he hadn't even tried to kiss her. 

Despite the late hour, she pulled herself out of bed and threw on her robe. If her parents found out about this, they would lock her in a tower, but she couldn't stand it anymore.

She knew she had to hurry, and his room was in the guest wing, which was quite a distance from her room. Quickly and quietly, she slipped out of her room and started to make her way through the halls. Most everyone was asleep, so she didn't have to worry too much about running into anyone, but occasionally a guard would make the rounds, forcing her to duck out of sight.

Once outside his door, she knocked just as she lost her nerve.  _What the hell am I doing here?_  She sighed and turned to walk away as the door swung open.

“Emma?” He asked. She turned back and her jaw dropped. What kind of man answered his door sans shirt? Better yet, what kind of man was allowed to be that  _gorgeous_  sans shirt?

“See something you like?” He smirked. “Not that I'm one to complain, but this late night visit is highly inappropriate.”

“Like you coming to find me while I was alone wasn't?” She shot back, trying desperately to keep from drooling at this point.

“Where are my manners?” He opened the door a little further and invited her in, “we can't have you running around half dressed, now can we?”

“You're the one who is half dressed,” she muttered. He looked like he was going to say something else, but she didn't let him. “Why haven't you kissed me?”

“What?”

“Why. Haven't. You. Kissed. Me?” Was it really that hard for him to understand?

“You came all the way over here to ask me why I haven't kissed you?” He asked. “I was pretty sure you didn't want me to.”

“I'm not saying I want you to, but that doesn't mean you can't try. You are my fiancé, are you not?” She frowned at him, unsure of what he wasn't understanding.

“Do you hear yourself?” He asked. “Why would you want me to try to kiss you if you're only planning on slapping me afterwards?”

Emma rolled her eyes, “I never said I would slap you.”

“You are the most confusing woman I've ever met.”

Annoyed at his statement, and convinced she wasn't going to get any sort of an answer that would appease her, Emma decided that this was a stupid idea to begin with. “Forget it,” she sighed.

Then he did something even more infuriating; he  _laughed_  at her. Who the hell did he think he was? “You really should go back to bed, Princess.”

“Don't you dare patronize me,” she felt silly, as if she were a child throwing a tantrum, but she was already beyond the point of caring how it all looked. “I asked a simple question-” She lost her train of thought when he stepped forward, invading her space. This wasn't good. She was supposed to be the one in control.

“I suppose the real question, Princess, is why do you want me to kiss you?”

“I never said-” Dammit. She couldn't form coherent thoughts when he was so close. What the hell was he doing?

“Never said what?” He asked. “Never said that you wanted me to kiss you? If you didn't want me to kiss you, you wouldn't be standing here right now.”

“Well?” She stammered, trying to regain some semblance of control, “then why don't you?”

He grinned, as if he was already well aware of the game she was desperately trying to win. She shut her eyes as he brought his hand up to her face and traced a thumb over her cheek. Every motion was slow, and she could just imagine his smug grin as he toyed with her.

His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. Just as she was about to demand he either kiss her or stop playing games, she felt his lips brush against hers. It was gentle, and almost sweet. Everything took a turn when she brought her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Suddenly, the soft, sweet kiss became more demanding. Emma found herself backed up against the door, her lips parting in a silent gasp. He seemed to take it as an invitation, deepening the kiss. She met him halfway, fighting for dominance, tasting the spices (must have been the rum? She had seen him having a drink with her father earlier...) that made him all the more intoxicating.

Just as quickly as it began, it was over, and he was pulling away from her. Confused, Emma frowned as she opened her eyes. No one had ever kissed her like that before, and she had a pretty good idea of what it was doing to him, so why did he stop?

“You need to leave.” It was a statement made between ragged breaths, and he refused to make eye contact with her.

“You can't just kiss someone like that and then tell them to get out,” she said, once she had caught her own breath.

“I can, and I did.”

“Are you angry with me?” She asked, “I didn't do anything wrong!” That was a blatant lie. She knew damn well she wasn't supposed to be sneaking into a man's room at night, even if he _was_  the man she was going to marry.

“I'm not angry, but you need to leave.”

Beyond frustrated, Emma rolled her eyes and refused to say anything more. Silently, she let herself out and ran as quickly as she could back to her own room. Once she was safely inside, she threw herself back onto her bed. What was his problem?

 


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma realizes why Killian kicked her out. Killian has a visitor from home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Updates are slow in coming. Apologies! I have quite a bit going on.

If Emma had to listen to her mother tell her she didn't have to marry Killian one more time, she would lose her mind. The queen was the only one opposed to this plan, and while Emma could understand her reservations, she was getting pretty frustrated trying to assure her she was fine.

“All I'm saying is that you shouldn't give up on love so easily...” Snow sighed, and Emma knew that the queen was equally frustrated.

“Are you going to give me the hope speech again?” Emma groaned, “I've already told you, everything will be just fine. Really, you should not worry so much.”

“You are just as stubborn as your father,” Her mother frowned at her, but Emma started laughing. “What do you find so amusing?”

“He often tells me that my stubbornness comes from you,” Emma informed her with a smirk. In truth, her own stubborn streak was handed down from both her parents, making her _that_ much more difficult to deal with.

Was that why Killian had kicked her out last night? Did he find her stubbornness so frustrating that he found it easier to send her away than to try and deal with her? Whatever the reason, his insistence that she leave infuriated her, and she found it difficult to keep from thinking about that kiss. Only one man before him had been bold enough to kiss her, and he certainly hadn't kissed her like _that_. Not to mention the fact that the whole situation had stirred up something new. She wasn't really sure what to call it, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. It was almost like the butterflies she got when she would go to see Baelfire, only stronger, warmer...

Suddenly, she flushed in embarrassment, realizing _exactly_ why Killian had kicked her out last night.

He was being a gentleman, and she was an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“Emma?” Her mother looked at her with worry in her eyes, “are you all right?”

Emma shook her head, “actually, I feel a bit under the weather. I think I should lie down.”

“Should I send for the doctor?”

“No worries, I just need a little rest,” Emma smiled weakly before rushing off towards her room. She was almost home free when she heard footsteps rushing to catch up to her.

“Emma!” Killian called.

She could ignore him, pretend she didn't hear, but he would catch up to her soon enough. Still, she wasn't quite ready to face him, especially now that she was completely humiliated about their meeting that previous night. She stopped, but didn't turn to him, and waited for him to reach her. “I'm not feeling well,” she lied again, hoping it would aid in her escape.

“I just want to talk,” he stated, “you barely said a word to me this morning, and now, you've been outright avoiding me all afternoon. I meant no offense-”

Emma spun around to look at him, “it would be wise then, to just forget it happened.”

“Why?”

“I would rather not have this discussion here,” she frowned, wondering why he didn't want to forget. The last thing she needed was to feel awkward every time she looked at him.

“Then elsewhere?” He asked.

“As I said, I do not feel well, but feel free to discuss it with yourself in any location you feel is appropriate.” Determined to have the last word, she spun back around and continued her original journey, finally making it to the safety of her room.

***

Killian watched as Emma disappeared around the hall. He knew damn well she felt fine, and it would be a cold day in hell before he let her just dismiss him like that. His father didn't sign him up for an easy task, _that_ much was apparent. Emma was beautiful, firey and stubborn. Despite the fact that she had a fortress around her heart, she could be warm and caring. She'd given him several glimpses of her softer side during their occasional chats, but closed back up the second she caught herself. Still, he couldn't help but fall for her, and something told him, that she was starting to fall too. He knew it scared her, and that she would rather not open her heart. The more the line blurred between duty and love, the more she pushed away.

Now he also had a definite answer as to whether or not the physical attraction was just one sided. Even though she didn't seem to understand what the hell was going on, he could tell when she came in demanding he kiss her. He felt it in the way she kissed him back. Maybe she could deny that she was falling for him, but she _couldn't_ deny that, at the very least, she wanted him. Okay, maybe she didn't quite realize it, she seemed a bit innocent in those matters, but on some level, he could tell she felt it.

Just as he was about to go storming off to find her again, someone called for him. It was a voice he hadn't heard since he'd left home for this damned arrangement. Killian turned around and grinned. Without hesitation, he rushed to meet his brother. “Liam!” He exclaimed as the elder Prince pulled him into a crushing bear hug. “You're early. The wedding is still a couple weeks away.”

“Alexandra insisted,” Liam laughed, “and who am I to deny her? Besides, she mentioned your princess is quite the spitfire. I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious.”

“Alexandra knows Emma?” Killian didn't know his sister-in-law very well. Liam had married while he was away, and by the time he returned, he found that his return was merely a pit stop on his way to his new home.

“Their mothers are friends,” Liam explained, “and Alexandra and her brother spent quite a bit of time at this palace as children. Small world, wouldn't you say?” He looked around, “so where were you off to before I came barging in?”

“Who said I was going somewhere?” Killian asked.

“I could see it in your eyes,” Liam raised an eyebrow, “I interrupted something. You wouldn't be trying to find a moment or two alone with your princess, would you? That's bad form, you scoundrel.”

Killian laughed. If only Liam knew the truth, that Emma was the one sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night. He only wanted to talk to her...at this point in time anyway. At the moment, she'd decided she wanted nothing to do with him, and he'd welcome just a conversation. “I was merely wandering aimlessly,” he lied. He could tell Liam didn't believe him, but thankfully, his brother didn't question him further. Now that it was clear Alexandra wanted to meet with her childhood friend, Killian knew that his own time with the princess would have to wait.

And maybe, a little distance would help him clear his head and figure out what he actually wanted to say.


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam figures Killian out, and Emma finally has to face what she's been dreading ever since that kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Term paper ahoy! Last week of class starts Monday, so hopefully I can write some more during break.

Killian was grateful to have Liam around, especially since Emma was now actively avoiding him. She was using her childhood friend as an excuse, and even if it was a good one, he couldn't help but be a little irritated.

“Your princess doesn't seem to like you very much,” Liam noted, after a few days of watching her give Killian the cold shoulder.

“She likes me just fine,” Killian grumbled, “she's just damned determined to keep me at arm's length.” He knew her game, push him away when she thought she was getting too close. Did she really expect to do that for the rest of their lives together?

“I have this strange feeling that there is much you haven't told me,” Liam started to pry, and Killian decided that there were worse things than confiding in one's brother. So, he told him everything. From their first meeting to that intense kiss that he couldn't seem to forget. (Not that he wanted to.) Everything had gone to hell after that.

“You kicked her out?” Liam raised an eyebrow, “why in the hell would you do something like that?”

“I was _trying_ to be a gentleman,” Killian rolled his eyes. “Apparently, that offends her.”

“Since when are you a gentleman?” Liam laughed. “I've never known you to kick a woman out, especially _before_ you've bedded her.”

“You act as if I've entertained scores of women,” Killian shook his head. He never lied about his dalliances, there had been a few, but he hated how his brother would often exaggerate the numbers.

“You love her,” Liam guessed.

“Well, I _am_ marrying her,” Killian resorted to sarcasm. How had his brother seen through him so easily?

“Our father set that up,” Liam stated, “and you and I both know how much you protested. Now, you complain about her avoidance. You wouldn't be so frustrated if you didn't love her.”

“She's made it quite clear that love is not a part of this deal,” Killian informed him, “and she's also told me that there is no way I can be in love with her, because I hardly know her.”

“Oh brother,” Liam chuckled, “you have got it bad.”

Killian knew Liam was right. He was in love with Emma, and perhaps he'd been in love with her since their first dance, since the night he promised he'd do everything in his power to make her happy. But how happy could she truly be if she were married to someone she could hardly stand? Whatever progress he'd made had been destroyed when he made the fatal mistake of kicking her out. “There was a point where she tolerated me,” he explained. It was more than that though. Before that fateful meeting, she seemed to actually enjoy his company.

“Well then,” Liam grinned, “let's see if we can't get her to that point again.”

***

Emma raised an eyebrow when Liam came along and requested a word with his wife. The way Alexandra giggled as she followed him had her wondering what kind of word he was requesting. Then, she decided that she really didn't want to know. Figuring she didn't really care to go find out what her mother was up to, she grabbed a book from her shelf and settled herself onto her bed to read.

“Finally.”

She looked up from her book and immediately hopped off of her bed. “This is my room,” she scolded Killian, “you're not allowed-”

“Stop with the bloody rules,” he rolled his eyes at her. “It isn't like you've ever followed them anyway.”

Emma wasn't able to come up with a reply, she was too shocked at the tone in his voice. His words were clipped and harsh, though, he didn't act as if he were mad. More like, annoyed.

“You've been avoiding me,” he told her, “whatever your reasons, I don't know, but I am getting tired of this game. You are going to go for a walk with me, and we are going to talk. Understood?”

She debated arguing with him, but knew he wouldn't take “no” for an answer. Silently, she nodded, and followed him out into the hallway. After they'd walked for a bit, and made their way out to the gardens, she finally allowed herself to speak. “You said that you wanted to talk,” she said, “yet you haven't said a word since you demanded I come with you.”

“Why do you suddenly hate me?” He asked.

“I never said I hated you,” she protested. How was she supposed to explain her humiliation? It was the last thing she wanted to talk about, especially with him.

“You've avoided me ever since I kissed you,” he reminded her. “If I've offended you in some way, I apologize. It wasn't meant as a rejection-”

“I know.”

“You know?” He asked.

“I didn't figure it out until the next day,” she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, “and then you came along insisting we talk about it.”

“You don't think we should?”

“What is there to talk about?” She asked, “how silly and naïve I am?”

“I think you're confused,” he said. “You are adamant that you will never love me, and yet, you find yourself teetering on the edge. It scares you, so you do whatever you can to keep me at a distance.”

“Have you always been so full of yourself?” She scoffed.

“What bothered you the most, love? The fact that you wanted me to kiss you, or the fact that you enjoyed it?”

“You assume too much,” she frowned, “and this conversation is over.” She turned away from him and started to storm off.

“Not until I say it is.” His tone had her stopping dead in her tracks. “Look at me,” he demanded, and with a huff, she spun around. She watched as his expression softened, and she figured the least she could do was hear him out. “What are you so afraid of?” He asked.

“I'm certain I made that clear already,” she said quietly.

“I would never hurt you,” he stated.

Emma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “You say that now,” she said with a bitter laugh, “but one day, you're going to remember that none of this was your choice, and if you don't resent me now, one day you will. Maybe we'll be fine, happy even, but it'll only take one disagreement for you to remember that it's my fault you're here-”

“Do you even hear yourself, love?” He was suddenly too close again, and she found it difficult to breathe. “Yes, my father pushed this on me. Yes, you're the reason everything was set in motion. But Emma, I don't have to be here. Do you even remember all the times you've told me that I could leave if I wanted to?”

“You stay because you feel obligated,” she said. “You're afraid your father will disown you, or that my father will have your head.”

“I don't give a damn about consequences!” He exclaimed. “If I didn't want to be here, I would be gone the first time you offered.”

“What the hell are you trying to say?” Dammit, now the tears were coming. She would _not_ let this man get to her. He was going to be her husband, and that was it. Whatever pretty words he laced together would have no meaning, because they never did. If she gave him her heart, he would only break it. That's what men did.

“I'm trying to say, that I choose you. Because, I've fallen in love with you.”

They just watched each other in silence for a few moments, neither saying anything, neither moving.

“I want you to be happy,” he finally said, “but Emma, if being with me makes you unhappy, then I won't let you go through with all this.”

“You want my heart,” she was crying softly, unsure of what she could possibly say that he would accept as a reasonable answer.

“I know you refuse to lower your walls,” he said, “I've accepted that. But, you don't have to love me to be happy.”

“But you won't be-”

“I will be,” he assured her.

“I can be happy,” she said. It was the truth. Before the uncomfortable avoidance, she realized that she was somewhat happy, and that she enjoyed Killian's company. “This won't be easy.”

“I love a challenge,” he smirked before leaning down to kiss her cheek.

He didn't linger, and he didn't try to kiss her again, the way he had the other night. Instead, he offered her his arm, and when she took it, he walked her back to the palace.

Emma knew one thing was certain. She was teetering on the edge, dangerously close to falling. If she hadn't already. 


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian notices a change in Emma, though she still refuses to love. Emma makes a request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! Term papers suck! Just gotta finish mine today and I'll be done with class for a few weeks. Plenty of writing time! This story is almost over, and so is Why Do You Care. I might not be doing as much fanfic after that, as I am working on something that I hope will one day join my published works. We shall see.

Things changed rather drastically after their conversation, and Killian couldn't deny that he was quite pleased. Emma stopped trying to avoid him, and they were once again back on friendly terms. He didn't push her, and he didn't bring up love or anything he thought might cause her to retreat again, but he got the feeling that she was opening up even more than before.

Emma seemed happier, and that filled his heart with joy. No matter how much she denied her feelings, she couldn't hide the fact that she was no longer keeping him at a distance. Stolen glances and secret smiles were given freely when they were in mixed company. When they were alone, she was the one reaching for him before he could even offer an arm.

_This could work,_ he thought as the wedding drew nearer. He realized that he might never hear the words from her, but there was no doubt that he had her heart, just as she had his.

The day before the wedding, he barely had a moment alone with her. There was a huge celebration, and each of them seemed to be shuffled around the room. Killian was beginning to feel dizzy and Emma didn't seem to be faring much better, giving him an exasperated smile as he stole a quick kiss in passing before his brother tore him away.

“It seems things are going better,” Liam said, “at the very least, she's tolerating you again.”

“Hilarious,” Killian rolled his eyes.

“What did you say to her?” Liam asked.

“What does it matter?” Killian grinned, “she's happy. Isn't that all that matters?” In truth, he hated the fact that he had snapped at her, but it was the only way he could get her to listen. Surprisingly, his outburst had worked, and instead of angering her further, it had thawed her cold shoulder.

“Aye,” Liam nodded, “happy wife, happy life. But she's still a spitfire.”

_And I hope that never changes,_ Killian said silently as he looked over at Emma, who was carrying on a lively conversation with Alexandra. As if she knew his eyes were on her, she looked over and gave him a small smile. For the first time since he'd met her, the smile reached her eyes. The sadness that he was certain would always be a part of her had melted away. Sure, it might always be there in some form, but it no longer seemed to consume her. She may not believe in love, but she was allowing herself to be happy.

Happy wife, happy life.

***

After the party, he'd said goodnight to Emma, chatted with his brother for a bit, and then went to his room so he could get some sleep. The last thing Killian expected was for someone to knock on his door in the middle of the night. Half dressed, he figured it would be best to not completely swing the door open. No, he wasn't going to make hat mistake again.

He opened the door a crack, and was shocked to see Emma standing on the other side. What the hell was she doing there? Especially after what happened last time. The last thing he needed was for her to retreat again.

“Can I come in?” She asked quietly.

Against his better judgement, he opened the door and let her in, taking a quick glance around before shutting it.

“No one saw me,” she rolled her eyes, “you're paranoid.”

“What brings you here?” He asked, giving her a playful little smirk. “Am I not kissing you enough?” His smile faded when he noticed she was fidgeting. She smiled, but it was forced, almost as if she were unsure of herself. “Emma?”

“Make love to me.” It was a demand, albeit a weak one.

“Excuse me?” He asked. For someone so innocent, she could be very forward. “You do know the wedding is _tomorrow_ , right?”

“Right,” she nodded, seeming a little braver, “so, I'd rather not spend tomorrow worrying about it.”

“You've nothing to worry about,” he assured her.

“That's not what I hear,” she said. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Despite her boldness, she was shaking like a leaf.

“What exactly have you heard?” He asked. The last thing he wanted, was for her to be a nervous wreck, especially over something that was supposed to be enjoyable. He felt her just shake her head against his chest. There was nothing he'd be able to say to make her feel better, especially when he was sure whatever she'd heard was nothing more than filthy gossip around the palace. It was most likely an overheard conversation between maids, chattering about inexperienced lovers. Dammit.

“Please?” She whispered, and he almost didn't hear it. When he didn't answer, she looked up at him. “I know you've done this before, so I know you aren't against taking a woman to bed.”

He wasnt, that was true, but Emma was different. She wasn't just some fling, whose only purpose was to scratch an itch. He loved her, and wanted to do right by her. He certainly didn't want to take her to bed if she was terrified of the idea.

“It isn't like you're not marrying me,” she joked, as if she felt humor would calm her a bit. “Unless, there's some reason you don't want to-”

“I never said that,” he cut her off before she could finish the thought. Of course he wanted to, he just wasn't sure _she_ really wanted to. Why did her midnight visits always jam him between a rock and a hard place? He knew this could all go horribly wrong no matter what he said or did.

“So then why are you hesitating?”

“Because I'm not one to force someone-”

“You're not,” she interrupted, “I came to you.” She was still shaking, but it didn't seem to stop her. She brought her arms up and around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss before he could protest any further.

Killian didn't hesitate, but he didn't rush. He kissed her soft and slow, trying his damnedest to get her to stop shaking. She was adamnt they do this, but he wasn't about to take her kicking and screaming. Emma needed to calm down so he could make it enjoyable for her. He pulled back and looked at her, frowning when he saw the expression on her face. It was a mix of uncertainty and sheer terror. “Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Then relax,” he said as he leaned in and kissed her cheek, “I've got you, love.”


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though she got the nerve wracking stuff out of the way the night before, Emma is a nervous wreck on her wedding day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I'm sorry it's taking me so long! I've got about two more chapters left in this story. I know I may have kind of skimmed over the sexy times, but it's not my forte, however, I have worked up a decent sexy/humorous situation next chapter.

She loved him.

Not that she informed him of this new development.

No, instead, Emma chose to run.

It wasn't like she could stay with him anyway, they were still unmarried, and that would cause a stir. Still, it almost broke her to hear him practically begging her to stay a few more moments, but she dressed and left, doing her best not to hear him. He didn't chase her, and she knew the only reason was because he feared being caught. It was a miracle _she_ didn't get caught.

When did this happen? Better yet, how?

“Emma?”

Snapping back to the present, Emma looked over to her mother, who looked more than worried about her. “Yes?”

“You don't have to do this,” Snow reminded her, “there is still time to back out.”

“Please don't,” Emma begged. The last thing she needed, when her nerves were already shot, was a reminder that the opportunity to back out was still there. She was in her dress, and her hair was halfway done, and the wedding was less than two hours away. All she had to do was make it through the day and all would be well.

“You don't want to do this,” Snow continued, “you don't love him.”

Oh, but she did. _So much._

“I like him just fine,” Emma stated. If she wasn't going to tell Killian, she certainly wasn't going to tell her mother. “What do you have against him?”

“Nothing,” Snow said, “but I _am_ against offering my daughter up into a loveless marriage. Even if you asked for it, Emma, it isn't fair.”

But her reasons for everything made sense. Emma couldn't assume the crown unless she was married, and there was also the need for an heir, because no one lived forever. “If I didn't do this, our family would eventually lose the kingdom.” Because she was adamant that love only brought about wasted years and endless torment, and without an arranged marriage, she would have happily remained alone. She couldn't do that to her parents, who fought so hard to win their kingdom back.

“Do you really think I value this kingdom over your happiness?”

“I _am_ happy,” Emma insisted. “I may never have what you and dad have, but it will be good.” Of course, if she insisted keeping her ridiculous notions of love a secret, that might strain things a little bit. Still, she wasn't sure what to do. Telling Killian (or anyone for that matter) would earn her nothing but a big, fat “I told you so.”

***

How she got through it all was a mystery. The second her eyes met Killian's, Emma knew she was doomed. All she could think about was the previous night, her nerves, and how wonderful he made her feel.

After all she'd heard, Emma never expected it to feel like _that._

Now, her nerves were going haywire for a completely different reason. Maybe a few different reasons. At first, it was merely the secret she kept, now, it was so much more.

The second Killian took her hand, she almost flinched at the touch. Almost. There was the matter of keeping ones composure. Strong, yet gentle, and all she could think about was how his hands felt, brushing over her bare skin as he traced soft kisses down her neck. Whatever experience the maids had blcbbered about certainly wasn't the same thing she had experienced with him.

He was concerned, she could sense it through the entire ceremony. The very same ceremony that was nothing but a blur to her. She must have sounded like an idiot, stumbling over words, and likely blushing like a fool.

When he kissed her, she almost lost it.

“Do you suppose we should dance?” He whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. It was the first thing he'd said to her all day that wasn't part of their scripted vows, and she had to admit, it felt a little awkward.

She ran last night, unable to find or listen to the words that needed to be said. Now, she had to admit that she still didn't want to listen to or say anything. Everything was still too fresh and new, and talking would probably cause her to slip up.

“Emma?” He asked, “are you all right, love?”

_Yes, you idiot!_ She silently screamed. _You're supposed to say yes when he asks you to dance!_ “Yes!” She blurted out.

“Yes what?” He asked. “Yes you want to dance, or yes you're all right?”

“Can you stop being so infuriating?” She scolded. She heard him chuckle and she looked over at him. “What's so funny?”

“The fact that this is supposed to be one of the happiest days in a woman's life, and you've been nothing but distant and on edge.” He grinned at her, that devastatingly adorable grin that she couldn't resist. “Smile, sweetheart, and enjoy your day.”

Right...and how was she supposed to do that? When all she could feel was a mix between nervousness and want. “Can we just dance?” She finally asked.

“As you wish,” he took her hand and lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles before leading her out to the dance floor.

Damn that started the stupid butterflies all over again.

When he took her in his arms, Emma tried to ignore how close they were, bodies pressed together, only separated by clothing.

Unlike last night.

Last night, when they were nothing more than a mess of tangled limbs, a mix of pain and pleasure she never could have imagined washing over her, leaving her craving more.

Heaven above, she didn't know anything could feel that good.

The thing that surprised her most, was when he asked if she trusted him. There was no question. She trusted him...and it was at that moment she realized it was so much more than that.

She loved him.

Emma had fallen in love with her husband.

The thought kept circling her head, and the more she tried to forget it, the more persistent it was.

“Emma?” His voice was quiet, yet it still broke whatever spell she'd fallen under. “Have you heard anything I've said?”

“Sorry...” She frowned, “I guess I wandered off for a minute.”

“You've been doing that quite a bit today,” he said, “are you sure-”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I'm fine.”

“Talk to me,” he pleaded.

“Not here?” She couldn't avoid talking to him, but she wasn't sure what to tell him. He wasn't stupid, he could tell that something was off.

“Would you bite my head off if I suggested we get some air?”

She blushed, and muttered a quick apology before agreeing with his suggestion. Once they were outside, and out of earshot, she turned to him, hoping to come up with something to say, but finding that he had a mouthful of his own.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked. “I mean, you came to me, and I only did what you asked. I did my best to make you as comfortable as possible-”

“Stop,” she interrupted. God, he thought she was upset with him. How did she not see that coming? “I know I've been a bit frazzled today, but please don't think that means I'm upset with you.” Quite the opposite, really...

“You really could have fooled me,” he said. “Between the way you rushed out last night, and how you've been acting today, it feels like you'd rather not be here at all. I understand you don't want to love me, and I'm not asking you to. All I want is for you to be happy, and the only reason I felt comfortable going through with this at all was because it seemed as if you were. Now, I'm not so sure.”

“I _am_ happy,” she insisted. Would she have to keep repeating that phrase for the rest of her life?

“But something's troubling you.”

“Can we just call it a case of the jitters? I mean, I haven't had a moment to breathe since I woke up this morning.” She watched him, hoping to see a sign that he'd just leave it at that. When he frowned at her, she knew she had to come up with something better.

“This is more than just wedding day nerves,” he stated, “you say it has nothing to do with me-”

“I never said that,” she sighed. She didn't. She only said she wasn't _upset_ with him, and she wasn't. Nor was she angry. She was just...confused. He wouldn't drop it though, unless he had the truth.

But the truth scared the hell out of her.

“You said you weren't angry with me...”

“I'm not,” she confirmed. He looked at her, expecting an answer, and she had no idea how she was supposed to tell him that she'd broken her own stupid rule by falling in love with him. All that would do was give him power over her. Power that could crush her.

“Emma, what's changed in the past few hours?” He didn't sound angry or annoyed, just concerned. His voice sounded so broken, as if he were grasping at straws trying to figure out how to make her happy again.

But she was happy. She loved him. And that terrified her.

“You can break me...” She whispered.

“Why on earth would I do that?” He asked softly, thumbing at the tears that had started to fall.

“Because you can. Because that's what happens...”

“Bloody hell,” he pulled her into his arms as her voice trailed off. “You're making no sense, love.”

“Because I was stupid to think we could just be friends. ” She mumbled. “I love you, and I hate that I love you.” She tried to push him away, and he relaxed his hold on her, but refused to let her go completely.

“Because you love me, that means I'll break you? Emma, I've no intention of hurting you. Ever.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he said. “You said you trusted me. Trust that even though the circumstances have changed, my intentions have not.”

She loved him, and wanted the same thing for him that he wanted for her. They just wanted each other to be happy. Was that really all that bad?

The thought still scared her, but not as much as it had before. “So...now what?”

“Now, we go in there and enjoy ourselves.”

“How long do we have to pretend we actually want to be around all those people?” Her mind started down the other path again, wondering how much longer she'd be stuck _wanting_ while trying to make nice with people she hardly knew.

“No one could blame you for wishing to retire early, I suppose,” he shrugged, “it _has_ been a grueling day, and we've got quite the trip ahead of us tomorrow.”

Right. Early wake-up for a trip to the summer palace. Still, retiring wasn't exactly what she had in mind. “So...I know we kind of took care of the wedding night thing yesterday...” She gave him a shy little smirk, hoping he'd catch her drift. Sure, she'd woken up a bit tired, and just a little achy, but that didn't mean she was opposed to a repeat performance. No, the only thing she was opposed to was keeping up appearances when all she wanted to do was get her husband naked.

The husband that she loved.

The husband that knew she loved him.

The husband that loved her too.

“I'm fairly certain retiring this early would be bad form,” he said with a grin, “but I'm not opposed to taking the long way back to the ballroom...”

“I think there's a scenic route that goes through our room,” she teased. _Their room._ It was a step up from what she'd grown up in. This was more of a suite, and it she had gone from thinking of it as a place she would have to share with an almost stranger, to a place she was going to share with the man she adored. _Adored._ When the hell had that happened? She stood on her toes and nipped at his earlobe. “I may have been wanting you all day,” she whispered with a little giggle.

“And here I was, this whole time, thinking you ran out because I'd done something horribly wrong.”

“I doubt you thought that,” she nuzzled his neck, and swore she could actually feel his pulse start racing.

“Keep that up, love,” he practically growled, “and we'll never make it to the damned room.”

David watched as Killian and Emma fled the premises. "Now where do you think those two are going?" Snow asked as she followed her husband's gaze. 

"I don't know," David answered, "I'll go retrieve them-"

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" Snow scolded. "Obviously they just need  a moment." Still, she couldn't help but notice how Emma's disposition had changed from spacey and indifferent to practically giddy in such a short amount of time. Had her husband been right all along? Maybe Emma's mood this morning was just as she said: nerves. Everyone was nervous on their wedding day, no matter how much in love they were. "I hate to admit it," she whispered to her husband, "but I think you may have been right about Killian. I think this could work." She looked over when she didn't get a response, and noticed her husband had already crossed the room to talk to a couple of the palace guards. Against her better judgement, she just let him be.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian don't make it...to the bedroom... Embarrassed guards, shattered egos, and a father, who may be oblivious to some things, doesn't miss the fact that he was right all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this is probably the raciest thing I've ever written, and I was assured that it's not even all that bad. I guess it's easier when I'm writing fanfic, because I know my mom will never read it. (Yes, I'm in my 30's, and I worry about my mom reading the books I've put out...so I made sure they were all clean cut, YA stories. HA! But that is the only problem when parents insist on supporting your prose...) So...we've got an epilogue left after this.

“Emma...” he warned her, for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sweetheart, if you keep at it, we'll never make it.” Every chance she got, she'd stop so she could kiss him, or nip at him. Never mind the fact that she was more handsy than a pirate in a tavern full of wenches. It was driving him insane. (In a good way, of course.)

“And what's that supposed to mean?” She laughed, as if she were enjoying this game plenty.

“It means,” he stopped and pushed her up against the wall, “that if you don't knock it off, I'm liable to have you right here.” He looked around to make sure they were truly alone, and noted their only witness was a suit of armor, that was probably too close for comfort, but he wasn't worried about that right now. She loved him. (Damn, he'd never tire of hearing that, and maybe, she didn't hate the fact that she loved him as much as she thought she did.)

“What's stopping you?” she taunted as she went straight for his trousers. He raised an eyebrow as she started to work at the belt. “We'd better hurry if we don't want to get caught out here.”

He leaned down and kissed her, wondering how in the hell he'd gotten so lucky. (She loved _and_ wanted him. How often did that happen with these types of arrangements?) “This will be a bit difficult,” he said in between kisses as he tried to pull all the damn layers up.

“I'm not wearing anything underneath,” she admitted, finally freeing him from his pants, leaving them to just fall to the floor. Bloody hell... He was already rock hard and didn't think it would be possible to be more aroused than he already was. That was until she curled her fingers around him. Okay, so last night, she had been a little shy, but clearly that was no longer the case. She seemed plenty eager to explore today.

“Dammit,” he stopped what he was doing when she started moving, slow, gentle strokes that had him almost unable to keep his head on straight. “Keep that up love, and we'll be done all too soon.” He went back to fighting against the layers of her skirt, finally able to slip his hand underneath. He heard her whine in protest when he made her let go of him, but her irritation was lost when he found her center. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, resting his forehead against hers, “You weren't joking...” She really _wasn't_ wearing anything underneath, and she was practically dripping, leading to believe that this _was_ something she had been wanting all day. Damn if that knowledge alone didn't threaten to send him over the edge...

“Killian...please...” she begged.

“Please what?” he teased, brushing his thumb over her little bundle of nerves, reveling in how she chased his touch.

“Take me...” she managed a raspy little whisper. Her arms circled his neck, and her fingers fisted into his hair, as if she were ready to take the lead if he decided to keep on teasing her.

Well...if the lady insisted... He lifted her skirt up higher, and helped bring her legs up around his waist as he guided himself inside her. Last night, there had been a struggle, between her fears and her virginity, she had been a tight fit. Today, that wasn't the case, there was no fear, and even though she was still a tight fit, (not that that would _ever_ be a complaint) there was almost no resistance as he slid in.

One thing he learned the night before, was that Emma was a vocal lover. (Not that he would ever complain about that either.) He wouldn't lie and say he was quiet, no, he was fairly vocal as well, but they were in a damn hallway, and he was fucking his wife up against the wall. There was a need to at least attempt to be quiet, so he did his best to catch all the delicious noises she was making with kisses, as he continued thrusting into her.

She was close, he could feel her starting to tense around him, and her moans and cries were getting harder to muffle. He could hear the armor start to shake, a clear indicator that they'd shifted. His mind kept snapping between pure ecstasy and the fear of getting caught. They needed to hurry.

Damn, he hated having to hurry.

“Come on, love,” he murmured, his thumb finding its way back to her center, his mouth not quick enough to muffle her screaming his name. Well...okay...she could have that one. “Fuck...” he groaned as his own release washed over him. 

The suit of armor must have had quite the time too, opting to fall over. He could feel Emma wince as it crashed to the ground.

As if things couldn't get any worse, he heard the two guards run around the corner, then stop dead in their tracks. It must have been quite the sight, Killian, with his pants around his ankles, still buried inside Emma, who still had her skirt hiked up, and her legs wrapped around his waist. “Fuck...” he muttered. Surprisingly, he heard her giggle.

“We'll...uh...just...” one of the guards was attempting to say something. Probably just trying to say they'd go away.

“Just leave,” Killian said. “Please?” He didn't want to make eye contact, and was doing his best to keep Emma as covered as possible. Part of him was upset that Emma was stuck in this mess because he just couldn't wait. Even though, she didn't seem too phased by the situation at all. As soon as he heard the guards round the corner again, he and Emma untangled and did their best to try not to look as if they'd just had each other in the hallway, knocking over their guest in the process.

“I'm okay,” she told him, after he'd spent a few moments silently trying to figure out how in the hell he was going to apologize. She kissed his cheek and smiled at him, “I mean it. Come on, let's hurry up and find out what they wanted.”

“What about our friend?” He smirked as he nodded towards the suit of armor, in pieces on the floor.

“Let's not wake him,” she laughed.

“We're decent,” Killian called out. The guards could meet them halfway on their little walk of shame. Emma still seemed to find it amusing, and was more concerned with trying to fix her hair. (That was now a complete mess. There would be no saving it.)

“Apologies,” one guard said. Neither would make eye contact. Of course they were apologizing, even though they weren't the ones caught with their pants down. Royal life was backwards like that. “Please don't have our heads. We were only looking for you at the King's request. When we heard the commotion-”

“How about we just forget this whole thing ever happened?” Emma suggested, “I'll go see what my father wants. Give us a few minutes to get back before you show up. It will look suspicious if you return empty handed.”

Still in shock, the guards were at a loss for words. They opted to bow out with whatever grace they had left, leaving Killian and Emma once again, on their own. “Emma,” Killian sighed, “that was...”

“Amazing?” She asked.

“Inappropriate,” he frowned, “I shouldn't have done that.”

“Killian, I egged you on,” she reminded him, “and I'll be expecting a repeat performance at some point.”

Of course she would. Finally, he laughed. How could he be so angry with himself when the entire situation didn't seem to bother her in the slightest? “If the lady insists,” he shrugged.

“Oh, she insists,” she laughed.

Like he could ever deny her anything.

“Right now though,” he gave her a once over, noticing that she did the same to him, “I believe we both still look a bit out of sorts.”

“I guess we should fix that before we go find my father,” she decided.

***

Emma did her best not to giggle as she talked to her parents. Her father had seemed genuinely worried about her taking off, and also seemed completely clueless. Her mother, on the other hand, looked as if she just didn't know what to say to her wayward daughter.

“What happened to your hair?” Snow finally managed, sounding almost offended, as if she were the one who had spent all that time perfecting it.

David, who up until this point, hadn't noticed anything other than the fact that his daughter was back where she was supposed to be, finally realized how disheveled she looked. (Hey, she did her best, but there was only so much one could do without help.) “A bit windy out?”

“Just a bit,” Emma lied, “but I think it has mostly passed.”

“Must have been pretty bad,” Snow nodded.

“Knocked some poor sap right over,” Killian supplied. Up until now, he'd been quiet, so his comment caught everyone off guard.

Emma almost completely lost it. David however, seemed concerned. “Is he all right?”

“His ego was shattered,” Emma said. She was close to breaking point, having had enough of this awkward conversation. Turning to Killian, she smiled, “I believe you promised me a dance?”

As much as she was attempting to hide it, she was just as uncomfortable talking to her parents as he was at the moment. (And he wasn't hiding his discomfort well at all. In fact, he looked more than relieved when she offered a means of escape.) As they left, she heard her father tell her mother, “I told you so.”

Oh, if he only knew the half of it.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short epilogue. Our heroes have found their happily ever after. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am always in the mood for prompts. You can find me at xhookswenchx on tumblr. ;)

Emma knew that one day, Killian's heart would belong to another.

What she never expected though, was that she would be completely fine with that. (And seeing how much he adored this other girl...well, it made her heart melt in ways she didn't think possible.)

“Sleeping?” Killian asked from the doorway, “Or is she proving to be every bit as stubborn as her mother?”

“Still being a little difficult,” Emma smiled as she reached into the crib to tickle the little girl who was insisting on staying up well into the night. Soft giggles filled the room, and in an instant, Killian was next to her, arm around her waist and looking at their little girl with nothing less than absolute adoration in his eyes.

“Just like her mother,” he said softly, “her sweet, beautiful, stubborn mother.” He turned to face Emma, pulling her close, and resting his forehead against hers.

Emma still couldn't believe how stupid she'd been, thinking she would never fall for this man. Now, here she was, completely in love with her husband. A small smile formed as she propped herself on her toes so she could close that final gap between them.

They had weathered many a storm together, and they would likely weather many more, and she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
